From the Beginning
by peetasfakeleg
Summary: The Rebels failed to take down the Capitol. It has been 10 years and the districts have been rebuilding themselves under the new rules. In honor of this recent rebellion being over, the new president has decided to begin the games again, but with brand new rules. There doesn't have to be a victor in these games, for these games are designed strictly to punish. Read & Review! :
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! This is my second attempt at fanfiction! Wish me luck! I've definitely put A LOT of thought into this story! Let me give you an itty bitty little back story to fill you in, alright? I'm basically pretending that the end of Mockingjay never happened. The rebels never took over the Capitol and in the end, the Capitol ended up winning the war. (This means that Prim is still alive! Yay! Too bad she isn't really in this story much :P But it makes me happy knowing she's still alive! Haha..) Anyways, the war went on for 3 more years before it finally ended. There were oodles of casualties on both sides (you will see our tributes were quite effected.) This story is taking place exactly 10 years after the war actually began. (We're going to assume the war began when they broke out of the arena in Catching Fire.) District 13 is completely gone (for real this time) and everyone was murdered/tortured, taken as a prisoner of war, or scattered among the districts. The Capitol has decided to start doing the games again as punishment. But the rules have changed. And you'll find out ALL about them after I introduce you to all of my tributes: D Please review and let me know how you like it! It will be quite slow though, because I want you to get to know each and every tribute before they even go into the games! (That way, each of their deaths will break your heart MUAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm evil! Just kidding.. but I do want you to know them all before they go in.) So wish me luck and ENJOY! **

**DISCLAIMER: As you all know, some of the characters in here are NOT mine! You will recognize them as none other than Suzanne Collins' amazing creations. **

**Chapter 1**  
**Cascaida Panalin: District 1 Female Tribute**

I run my fingers through my messy curls, taking a breather in the hallway. I rub my knees, thinking how I am _way_ too young to have aches and pains like this. Then I laughs at myself as I remember that I've been through way too much to even begin to consider myself still young.

"Cassia! What are you doing?" Plum yells from across the house and I sigh. I shakes my head and takes a deep breath before going to find my caretaker.

"I was just finishing up in the hall bathroom." I says innocently as I walks into the room where Plum is polishing the dark mahogany dining table.

"You made sure you double checked your work this time, right?" Plum turns to look at me sternly over her glasses. I resists the urge to roll my eyes at her. Last week, I had forgotten to wipe the sink completely dry and Plum had threatened to fire me. This threat lasted about ten minutes before Plum realized she can't possibly do the whole work-load by herself. Hell, the two of us together could barely finish our day's work in a day. But hiring someone else was out of the question. The meager earnings we made barely supported us two alone. And it wasn't like we are vapid shoppers who bought all of the latest fashions. We buy food and pay our bills and sometimes had just enough money to buy more supplies for the business.

"Yes." I says firmly, giving Plum a stare that mimics her own. I am usually such a quiet, reserved person, but can be my true self around this one person. And although I owe my life to this woman, we still have our disagreements.

Ms. Plum Beynart had been my neighbor when the war began. My father volunteered to fight in the war against the rebels and had died fighting them. Only days later, my mother ended up being shot in the head, although no one could tell which side shot her. Having no other family, I wandered around the wreckage that was my district at the mere age of 4 until Plum found me. She had known my parents and had hoped to bring me back to them as soon as she could. I, of course, had been so shocked from everything that it took me almost two years to begin speaking again, so I couldn't tell her that my parents were both dead.

She never mentioned them to me, but when the war began winding down and there was still no sign of my parents, Plum had decided to just keep me. The tiny girl with curly blonde hair had won her over in the years during the war. Things were rough and food was hard to come by, but we had made it work. We had been through hell and back together and there was a mutual love between us.

Sometimes, however, Plum would swear that I was the reason her hair was greying. Although I was a reserved girl, I was also a little too smart for my own good. I was always on my teacher's bad side because frankly, I was too smart to be in the grade they had placed me in. Not to mention my lack of a filter when it came to how horrible the war really was. Even though I was really young when it started, the terrible memories I has from it will haunt me forever. Every time the phone rang, Plum was afraid to answering it, knowing it was the school calling to have her pick me up.

Plum ignores my stare and just shakes her head, finishing up the table. "Well then, it looks like we're all set." She glances at the clock before turning back to me. "We finished early today. How about we stop by the bakery on our way home? I think we deserve some fresh rolls for dinner."

My face lights up at the thought of fresh, warm bread. Money wasn't so tight that we had awful food all the time, but it was rare that we had enough time to stop at the bakery on our way home. Usually, we ended up cleaning houses late into the night, and the bakery was closed by the time we were able to end our day. I help Plum quickly pack our supplies and we're out of the door within minutes.

As we step into the bakery, I take in the smell of fresh bread baking. A boy a few years older than me bumps into us on the way out and hurries away without apologizing. I recall his name is Maxon. He was very popular with all the girls in school, although he is now finished with school. Since the war ended, the Capitol decided to shorten schooling to end at the age of 16. He was recruited last year to help with the rebuilding of the district. A smile creeps onto my face as I watches him hurry down the street. His arms have gotten quite large since he began working in construction, I note. Then I shake my head. No point in drooling over a guy who will never know you exist, right?

"Cassia, are you in there?" I blink a few times, realizing Plum is waving her hand in front of my face.

"Sorry." I say, quickly shaking the thoughts of the boy—well, almost man.

"I was asking what kind of bread you wanted." Plum looks agitated, so I just shrugs my shoulders. Plum rolls her eyes and directs the plump, short baker to two full, warm rolls made of some darker wheat. Ever since the war, the Capitol has made sure there is absolutely no contact between the districts. They aren't even allowed to learn about what the other districts make anymore. So I have no idea where the grain actually came from.

I scold myself. _That is exactly the kind of thinking that keeps getting you in trouble at school!_ I can almost hear Plum lecturing me, and I instantly feel guilty. I knows I should keep my mouth shut about the Capitol and the war and all of the changes, but I can't help myself sometimes. I'm just a curious person. Of course, I had wrung Plum dry of answers as soon as I could speak again. But that was never enough. I always wanted to know much more. My parents had always supported the Capitol, but Plum had told me that most of District 1 _did_ support the Capitol because they were treated much better than most of the other districts. And when I spoke up about how unfair that was, Plum just agreed and told me that was why the war started in the first place.

But now no one will even know if the Capitol is treating everyone fairly, because we're not allowed to know anything about each other anymore. _Well, that's one way to fix things_, I think crossly. How anyone could have supported the Capitol, I will never understand. As of now, no one in District 1 is treated very well. I mean, the Capitol is funding the rebuilding of the district, but only the newly appointed city officials get decent places to live. Everyone else has to deal with half-fast construction jobs that you could sort of call a shelter if you squinted and turned your head all the way sideways.

As they leave the bakery and walk the distance to the outskirts of town, where their 'house' is, I try to narrow my eyes and turn my head sideways, and almost laughs at myself. Our home is more of a shack than anything else. Because the Capitol focused on the shops and city official housing first, we had been forced to live in the ruins of the old district. Only recently, there has been construction across the meadow from the ruins for the lower class citizens.

My heart drops a little as I think about leaving the only home I've really known. Because I had always lived in the outskirts, my house wasn't nearly as affected by the bombs as most of the other neighborhoods in the district. A few stray bombs had hit my neighborhood, hitting Plum's home and taking out half of my home as well. But most of it was livable, so once the war ended, the two of us boarded up the inhabitable side of the house and moved in. And even though it isn't much now—just a single room, a bedroom and a kitchen—it's still my home.

Plum, however, is ecstatic to move into a new home. "Look Cassia! They're moving along quickly with the construction! Only a few more months in this dump!" She almost dances at the thought and I just look away quietly. As we step into our tiny home, the television in the kitchen comes to life. After the war, the Capitol supplied everyone with brand new television sets so they could send us all announcements without actually having to come to the districts.

At first, it was all propaganda. But then they started televising interviews of the new president, President Blackburn. He was quite young, at least compared to the last president, Snow. Blackburn had blazing red hair, which you could tell was obviously altered. He had a wicked grin, although as the interviews went on, his grins faded. His piercing dark eyes could only be described as black. His sharp features were frightening. I would always look away when he came on, although his scratchy voice did nothing to hide the horrid image of him.

But for some reason, the Capitol loved him. They would always be cheering when he came on. Apparently he had been one of the commanders for the Capitol military during the war, and it was he who they gave the credit for taking down the rebels.

And for the past seven years, Plum and I have been forced to sit and watch their menacing president talk about things we had no interest in. There was absolutely no way around it. Blackburn had sent troops instead of Peacekeepers to the districts for the first few years after the war. The Peacekeepers did come back eventually, but they were cruel and hardened. One minor infraction would have you in the town square, being whipped in front of everyone. And the infractions were ridiculous. Once, I had watched a man being whipped because he gave a little boy a free piece of candy from his store. According to the Capitol, sharing can lead to rebel alliances.

But tonight, Blackburn is not on the television. It is Caesar Flickerman. Plum gasps as she recognizes him, and lowers herself into a chair. "He doesn't look like he's aged a day." She mutters, mostly to herself. I recognize him vaguely, but only from watching television with my parents before the war. He was so charismatic and you couldn't help but like everything about him.

But what is he doing on television tonight? He hasn't been around for the past seven years. I wonder these things but stop as he begins to speak.

"Hello all you lovely viewers out there! I bet you've missed me! But fear not, I won't be leaving you again! Tonight, we have a special interview with President Blackburn!" He wiggles his eyebrows in the beginning of his speech, which gets the crowd all riled up. Then the camera pans over to Blackburn and the crowd grows even louder. Caesar and Blackburn are seated in chairs facing each other on a stage that looks vaguely familiar. Plum gasps, but I can't look away. "President Blackburn, can I just say that you've done a lovely job bringing the country back together after such an awful war?"

President Blackburn shoots him a grin that looks more intimidating than grins should look. "Why thank you, Mr. Flickerman. It's been a long haul, but I am proud to say that we've gotten almost everything back to normal."

"Oh yes, things are looking great! Can you tell us a little more about what other normal things you have up your sleeve for us?" There's a twinkle in his eye as he fishes for the answer he wants.

"Of course. In honor of bringing the country back together again, we've decided to start the Games once again." The crowd goes wild and it takes a few minutes for Caesar to calm them down. My heart rate speeds up a little as I realize what this means, but I keep listening.

"But Mr. President, weren't the games part of the rebel's aid against the Capitol?" He gives Blackburn a concerned look, but Blackburn just shakes it off.

"Yes, we believe it was. But these games will be different. There are new rules." Again, the crowd goes wild. Cascaida can feel her stomach churning, remembering how awful the games really were. She used to have nightmares after having to watch it with her parents.

Caesar leans in expectantly, hoping to keep the president talking. "New rules? That sounds entertaining!" He squeals and the crowd can't be contained for at least another five minutes or so.

When they quiet down, Blackburn speaks. But I have already stopped listening. They're starting the games again? Although I was really young the last time they had the games, I remember watching the vivid images of the bloodbath in that arena that was shaped like a clock. I shudder, remembering how the nightmares haunted me for months after that.

Within a few weeks of watching that, my parents had both died and I was living on the streets, alone and scared. And night was the worst. I had found a shack that must have once been someone's garden shed, and slept there most nights—or at least, tried to sleep. I had been woken multiple times a night from the horrible images that played through my mind.

That had been how Plum had found me in the first place. Plum had heard my screaming from the streets, and rushed to helpme. After that, having someone sleeping near me helped, although I still had at least one nightmare per night.

Even now, I will wake up sweating and shaking, frightened of the gruesome images that had flashed through my dreams. Sure, some of those images were from watchingmy mother getting shot and others were from all of the gore I had witnessed during the war when Plum had helped open a medical station for the few refugees still left in the district. But a lot of my nightmares still revolved around watching people butcher each other for the country's entertainment.

It sickens me, knowing this will happen once again. And even worse, people will be excited for it. Plum had once told me that some kids trained their whole life to be in the games. They were called Careers. And usually the kids from District 1 ended up being careers.

I run through all of my classmates in my head, trying to pick out the people I think would be strong enough to be considered a Career. Maxon comes to my mind once again as I remembers his muscles rippling through his shirt and his strong arms at his side as he rushed down the street earlier today. I could almost see him crush someone's skull with the sheer power of his muscles.

I shudder again as the hair on my arms rise. It's almost too scary to imagine anyone I know going into the arena, even if I don't know them that well.

The show ends and the television shuts itself off. I had been lost in my own thoughts for the last part of the show. I never got to hear the new rules, but then again, they probably aren't things I will want to hear anyways. They'll only aid to the terrifying nightmares I'm bound to have tonight.

As I glance at my caretaker, I realizes Plum is crying. I rush to her, and kneel in front of her, grabbing Plums hands in my own. I has no idea what to say to her, so I sits there until my knees start screaming at me.

Plum slowly begins to calm down, but then she makes eye contact with me and begins crying all over again. "I could lose you tomorrow." Is all she manages before she gets up and walks straight into the bedroom.

I give her time, cleaning up the kitchen and putting the rolls away. They'll be stale if left out all night. Maybe we can eat them for breakfast, I ponders as I looks around the kitchen to make sure everything is spotless. I stands there for a few moments, thinking of Plum's words. Does she have no confidence in the girl she's basically raised? I am hurt by the realization that Plum is right; if I goes into the arena, i won't be coming ou.t.

But I shakes her head, knowing that the odds are in my favor. It's quite unlikely that my name will be picked out of the thousands of kids in my district. As of now, the kids outnumber the adults in the district. The Capitol decided to pardon anyone under 15 of their treason. Many children were left orphans, taking care of their siblings. Once, our neighbors—The Timberlions—had tried taking in a few of the orphans. They were elderly and had enough money to feed a few extra hungry mouths. But the Capitol wouldn't allow it. They were both whipped in front of the whole district before being removed from their middle class home and being placed in a shack next to ours.

I turn of the lights and makesmy way into the bathroom so I can wash off all the grime from the day's work. As prominent as these people are, one would think they had cleaner homes. But more than once a day, I am forced to throw old chicken bones from the floor of rooms into trash bags. I'm forced to scrub bathrooms that have seen their own kind of wars. Since I began cleaning, I have built up a sort of immunity for disgusting things. But still, some of these people manage to surprise me.

When I feels squeaky clean, I make my way into the dark bedroom. I can hear Plum still sniffling, but decide not to comfort her. Plum is battling her own demons right now, and I should do the same. As I closes my eyes, I try to think of happy things, hoping they'll deter my mind from focusing on the new realization that I could die very soon.

I am shaken awake by a puffy eyed Plum. I had only woken twice during the night from my nightmares, but they weren't nearly as bad as I had been expecting. Neither of us says much as we prepare ourselves for what Plum calls the Reaping. She has already taken out my nicest dress, and is wearing the nicest dress she owns. We eat their not so fresh rolls in silence before Plum finally speaks up.

"I lost a son." She speaks quietly. "In the games. He was a Career, so he had a chance. But once the Careers had taken out the rest of the tributes, they turned on each other." Her voice is cracking and I watch her shudder as she remembers. "I—I had to watch him die. It took days. He was a smart boy, but he had no idea what to do with the infection on his back." She's crying hard now, and I leave my chair to wrap my arms around my now fragile guardian.

"I had no idea." I manage to mutter and Plum looks up at me.

"Of course you didn't, dear. I never wanted you to know about any more pain than you already knew about. I never thought they would do this again." She's trying to compose herself, but is struggling. I bring her a tissue and she begins wiping her face. Plum glances up at the clock and stands abruptly, almost knocking me onto my backside. "We need to go. We can't be late."

She grabs my arm a little too tightly as we walk quickly towards the town square. Large screens have been set up and I feel a ghostly shiver run down my spine. I remember seeing this before. There's a stage in front of the largest screen, with a microphone and a large ball of floating pieces of paper. _Somewhere in that ball is my name_, I think as I stare at it in awe.

A Peacekeeper steps in front of us as we reach the crowd and points each of us in opposite directions. Plum hugs me tightly before obeying, knowing that if we take too long, the Peacekeepers will punish us both.

I look back at Plum as I make my way towards the group of girls standing near one of the screens. A man who is obviously from the Capitol steps up to the microphone. His bright green hair doesn't move as the breeze picks up. His pale purple skin makes his dark green lips pop off of his face. They match his suit, which looks comical to me, and I scold myself for wanting to laugh at a time like this. Some of the girls around me are still whispering to each other, and I look around, realizing I have no friends here.

Everyone is quieted as the microphone turns on and squeaks loudly. They all turn their attention to the stage, and I am grateful that I am no longer the only one not speaking with other people.

"Why, Good Morning District 1!" He squeals, his voice much too high for a man. "As some of you may know, I am District 1's escort! My name is Emilius Starburrough and I am proud to announce this year's tributes! We'll start with the girls." As he reaches into the bowl, my heart stops. I know the chances of him pulling my name are slim as I glance around to the thousands of girls surrounding me.

"Cascaida Panalin."

At first, I'm sure I've heard him wrong. But once people start turning towards me and I see my face on some of the screens, I know I've heard right. I can hear someone scream from off in the crowd and my heart sinks as I recognize Plum's voice. I want to run to her, but people are already clearing a path and pushing me towards the stage. Two Peacekeepers are standing by the stairs, ready to help me up. I give them each a shaky hand and they hoist me up with ease.

I don't know where to go, so I stand awkwardly by the stairs until Emilius ushers me forward. "Well hello, Cascaida. Aren't you excited to be the first female tribute of the new games?" He asks into the microphone and I have to muster up all of my strength to nod at him. I know if I say no, they will punish Plum. She had told me stories of how the Capitol liked to take things out on family members of people who act out in public.

So I stare forward and try not to look directly at anyone in the crowd. I'm trying so hard to keep my tears down, and it seems like I'm succeeding. I glance at a screen on my right and spot myself standing straight. I look scared, but I don't look like I'm going to cry, which is a good thing. I really wish I would have paid attention to the interview last night. I mean, I never knew what the old rules were to the games, but I'm sure knowing the rules now will help me. I'm not paying attention to anything until I hear him call the next name.

"Maxon Revel"

My heart speeds up a bit as I spot him standing tall in the group of boys. He makes his way up to the stage without hesitation and I can't help but admire the ease of his movements as he comes to stand next to me. He nods at me as he looks right over my head at our escort.

"Well, it looks like we have two lovely tributes for this year's games!" And with that, Maxon and I are pushed into a room and shut in together.

He looks me up and down before snorting. "Well, aren't you a little thing?" I narrow my eyes at him, but I'm afraid if I speak, the tears I've been holding back will force their way out. So I say nothing. And he turns away from me, staring at a spot on the wall. We're in the room for what feels like hours before we're lead to a train. I begin to panic, realizing I didn't even get to say goodbye to Plum. But then I stop. I don't want to start any trouble, so I just stare forward as Maxon makes his way onto the train first. Emilius pushes me forward, and I'm forced to follow. I take one last glance at my district and can't help the tears that fall as I spot Plum in the front of the crowd, screaming for me with Peacekeepers on either side of her. I want to call out her name, but the door slams shut before I have a chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The next few chapters will be a little bit shorter because I have a lot less to explain. Please enjoy and review! Let me know how I'm doing!**

**Chapter 2:**

**Maxon Revel: District 1 Male Tribute**

"Maxon, you have to stop yelling at the new girls." Mr. Goddard, my crew leader, scolds me. I grunt as if acknowledging his advice as I continue to nail down the support beams for the new house we're building. He sighs and I can see him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye.

I grin a little as he walks away from me. I get the same lecture from him about once a week, and we both know it won't change a thing. As long as the new girls keep getting in my way and trying to talk to me while I'm trying to work, I'm going to yell at them. I'm here to work, not get hit on by every girl that tries to join our crew.

All the guys say I should lighten up and enjoy all the attention I get from the opposite sex, but I would really rather not. I'm here to work and that's what I plan on doing. Most of the guys here think that just because I live in the rich part of town, I don't need to work very hard. But they couldn't be more wrong if they tried.

I need this job so I can give my little brother the life he deserves. Hodder is nothing like the rest of us. He was only three when the war started, so he missed out on the violent upbringing that our older brother Dugan and I had to go through. Dugan was at the top of his class in training, and if the war never would have happened, he would have volunteered as tribute the year he turned eighteen. I had only been in training for a year or so when the war broke out, but I was already following my brother's footsteps quite well.

When the war broke out, the Capitol took us in on one condition: my brothers and I would have to become part of the new Capitol military or become a Peacekeeper. Because Dugan had been so advanced in his training, they appointed him to be a head trainer in the training center. I would have been a trainer there too, but I had to finish my schooling and then they needed more hands with the rebuilding of the district. So for the next few years, I'm safe from my fate. Hodder, on the other hand, is not so lucky. By the time he finishes his schooling, there won't be any building left to do. So they have him in training five days a week from the time he gets out of school to curfew.

But Hodder wasn't meant for that kind of life. For as long as I can remember, Hodder has been the best artist I know. While we were hiding out in the Capitol, Hodder had all the time in the world to draw and paint while Dugan and I continued our training. Our parents always scolded him, hoping he would find something more productive to do with his time. But when they weren't watching, I would complement him and hide his drawings in a safe place.

Ever since, we've kept it our little secret. They don't teach art in school anymore, because they think it's unnecessary. But with each of my paychecks, I make sure I buy my little brother some more paper and pencils and any other supplies he may need. We keep them hidden in the closet we share, and when the rest of our family works during the weekends, he draws. Seeing how excited he gets when he shows me his completed works gives me the assurance that I need to keep this up.

While in the Capitol, I met people who can help us. Although we haven't been in touch in years, I know how to contact them when the time comes. They had promised to get Hodder out of here, and I intend on holding them to their promises.

I'm lost in thought when the whistle blows, but I shake myself back to reality when Mr. Goddard starts to make his announcement. "Alright, everyone. We did a great job out here today, and I am glad to say that we'll be cutting the day short." I start to protest, but he holds up his hand. "The Capitol has announced a mandatory televised event tonight. I've given you an hour to run any errands you may need to run before you head home. Remember, the Peacekeepers will be out patrolling, so don't be late!" And with that, everyone sets down their tools and makes their way back towards town. We've been building the new 'poor' part of town for the past few weeks. I can see the ruins of what used to be the middle class part of town, and am surprised to see people still live there.

As I walk back towards town, people try to start conversations with me. And by people, I mean girls. I shake them off, and pull a list out of my pocket. I look over the list before shoving it back into my pocket and stepping into the warm bakery. When the baker spots me, he smiles and waves me over. I've become somewhat of a regular, and he has my order waiting for me.

"Hear anything about this mandatory showing tonight?" He asks, leaning in close to me conspiratorially. I shake my head at him and he motions for me to lean closer. "Word is, they're bringing back the games." His eyes widen dramatically as he tells me the news and I'm no longer interested in talking. I quickly pull coins out of my pocket and overpay him. But I don't wait for my change. I grab my order and race out the door, running into an older lady and a girl on my way out.

I don't apologize, although I almost feel like I should. I recognize the girl from when I still went to school, but I don't have a clue what her name is. I vaguely remember seeing her sitting alone during lunch, but that's about it. But I shake the girl from my mind as I return my thoughts to the more pressing matter.

Surely, if there are rumors about the games beginning again, they would have to be false. There's no way the Capitol would let out a secret like that before giving a formal announcement. They wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, I think crossly. I'm at my house before I know it, and I realized I must have been walking a lot faster than I thought. As I step into the foyer, I notice my family has made their way to the dining room table. My mother looks up at me and nods as I set the bag of bread on the table and take my seat next to Dugan. We eat our dinner quickly, not wanting to miss the announcement.

As we pile on the couch, I end up smashed between my brothers. Our parents take the smaller couch further from the television. The television turns on automatically and my parents and Dugan clap wildly at the man who appears on the screen. I know his name and I remember the last time I saw him, when he was commenting on the last games right before the war. He looks as if he hasn't aged in the past ten years, and I can't help but smile as he wins over the crowd.

When he introduces President Blackburn, my parents go crazy again. Dugan just grins proudly, looking up at a man who served as a sort of mentor to him during the war. He had been the one who appointed Dugan as a head trainer even before he became president. I listen intently to their conversation, and when I hear the words I've been dreading, my blood runs cold.

The baker was right: the games are beginning again. I struggle to listen, and hear that there are new rules. I try to focus on these rules, but all I can think about is how both Hodder and I are eligible. I know I will volunteer to take his place if his name gets called.

But a ping in my gut worries me. What will happen to Hodder if I leave? I know that if I end up in the arena, my odds of surviving are pretty good. But what would become of my brother if I'm not here to encourage him? How will he escape this life if I'm not here to help him get out?

I try not to shudder, knowing my brothers will both feel it as we are sitting elbow to elbow. I glance around and take in the scene. My entire family is leaning in, holding on to each and every word of the interview. Dugan and my father are grinning widely and my mother is nodding in approval at everything the president says. Hodder on the other hand, is just staring wide eyed at the screen. I want to tell him that it's okay, and that I would take his place if it came to that, but I know my family would frown upon it.

As the show ends, everyone comes out of their trances. Dugan looks at me and grins before slapping me on the back. "You two are so lucky you get another chance to be in the games! I'm jealous!"

I can feel my parents stares burning into the back of my skull, so I react the way they expect me to. I put on a fake grin and return the slap to his back. "No kidding! I wish I would have gotten more training in!" I turn to nudge Hodder, and his face lightens up as well.

"I know! I bet I'm better than you now! You're probably so rusty, the girls would all get better scores than you!" He jokes with me, but I can see the worry in his eyes. I wrap my arm around his neck and put him in a headlock, which gets Dugan riled up. We're all wrestling on the couch, which lightens my mood a little. Things like this almost make it seem like we're a normal family.

"Now, now boys. You all better be getting to bed. You don't want to be too tired for the Reaping!" My mother chirps and we stop abruptly and make our way towards our rooms. I can't sleep. I'm worried. Not about the games, but about Hodder.

The light of morning comes before sleep does, and I get out of bed and head for the bathroom. I splash water on my face and glance at myself in the mirror. My normally bright blue eyes are cloudy and red. It definitely looks like I didn't sleep well. I run my fingers through my short brown hair, which is sticking up everywhere, and I know I'll embarrass my mother if I don't try to tame it a little. I splash some water onto it and try to smooth it out, but it's no use.

Hodder shuffles his way into the bathroom as I'm trying to pat down my hair and grins at me. "Good luck with that." He motions at my hair and I drop my hands in surrender. I make my way out of the bathroom and down to the kitchen, where my mother is already preparing breakfast for us. Or rather, a feast. There is already a large assortment of food piled on top of our table, and it looks like she's only just beginning. She nods at me as I sit down across from my father and begin piling food on my plate. Who knows, I could be starving in a few days.

Dugan makes his way downstairs and plops down next to me. He looks at me and just nods. I can read the jealousy all over his face and wish I could trade him places. Or rather, wish he could trade places with Hodder. Out of all of us, Dugan would be the most likely to survive the games. Hell, he'd been training hard his entire life for the games. And even during the war, he trained harder than anyone else. Now, his job is to practice training every single day.

I glance down at his arm leaning on the table next to mine and I compare the sizes. Although my arms are large from all the construction work I've been doing, his are much more sculpted and lean. He has fighting muscles, I have working muscles.

I hear Hodder trudge down the stairs before I see him. I know he is looking forward to this day being over about as much as I am. But when he arrives in the dining room, he pastes a smile on his face. He takes his place at the table and piles his plate full of food that he won't possibly eat.

As my family chatters about the food and how their days were yesterday, I just look around, trying to absorb everything. Sure, I hate some of the decisions my parents have made. And of course, I hate how violent Dugan has always been. But they are my family, and if things don't go my way today, I'll miss them.

"Max, are you even listening?" Dugan is waving his fork full of pancakes in my face and I blink a few times before looking at him.

"Sorry, I was just thinking of strategy." I sputter, thankful for a quick excuse.

"You aren't planning on volunteering this year, are you?" My fother looks at me sternly from behind his pile of food.

"Of course not. But I want to be prepared, you know, just in case." I say smiling at him. He grins back and I know I've said the right thing.

I clear my plate and push out my chair so I can go upstairs and find my best clothes. I know how this all works. They want to parade us in front of everyone, and I'm going to make sure I look damn good doing it. I look in the mirror one more time before leaving my room to check out my face one more time. The food did wonders for my blood shot eyes, but I don't think anything will help the mess on top of my head. I sigh and shake my head as I make my way downstairs.

The rest of my family is already waiting on me. "You ready, pretty boy?" Dugan teases and I sock him in the arm. He's about to retaliate, but my father steps in between us.

"Not now, you two. Don't want to mess up your nice clothes now, do we?" Dugan glares at me playfully and I smirk at him. I know once the Reaping is over, he'll get his revenge. But if we all make it through the Reaping, nothing will be able to break my spirits.

We make our way to the town square, which is already packed full. Large screens are placed all around, and I'm reminded of the old reaping days. Hodder and I are herded towards the large group of boys standing off to one side of the stage. I can see the girls standing on the other side, and notice that quite a few of them seem scared. When I glance back to the group I'm walking towards, I notice most of them seem excited.

Hodder is walking so close to me that when I stop, he rams right into my back. I turn and smile at him, and he shrugs apologetically at me. We take our places among the rest of our district's boys and wait.

A Capitol citizen, most likely our escort, makes his way to the microphone in the middle of the stage. Once he has the crowd's attention, he introduces himself as Emilius Starburrough and he is in fact our escort. Unlike the old reapings, there are no mentors on stage. I wonder if that was part of the new rules. But I don't have a lot of time to ponder that, because he jumps right into picking the names out of the glass ball.

I'm almost shocked at how rushed this all seems. Aren't we missing out on the reading of the Treaty of Treason? Shouldn't there be a new treaty or something?

"Cascaida Panalin" His ringing voice breaks my thoughts as I glance around, looking for the girl that he called. The monitors catch her first, and I see a glint of fear race across her face before she has a chance to hide it. But she takes a deep breath and begins walking towards the stage.

I recognize her as the girl that I ran into yesterday when I was leaving the bakery. I feel bad for her, watching her tiny frame make its way up towards the stage. Seeing her standing next to our escort, who happens to be quite a large man, makes her seem even smaller.

I feel anger rise up in me. Someone should be protecting her. She must be around 14. That is way too young to be sentenced to death. And yes, there have been smaller victors in history, but it's rare. This girl is going to die. Plain and simple.

I watch as the escort asks her a question. She barely manages to nod, and I can see how hard she's thinking about her answer. I'm not even paying attention to the escort anymore. I'm watching this scared girl squirm on the stage. I almost miss the name he calls out.

"Maxon Revel"

My name squeaks across the square, echoing through the streets. I can hear Dugan from somewhere in the crowd cheer and whistle. Before I know it, my feet are moving forward and I'm on the stage next to the small girl. I nod to her, hoping to give her some sort of reassurance, and then focus my attention on the escort. He says something that I don't hear, and the crowd cheers as we're ushered into the building behind us. They push me into a room with the girl, Cascaida, and shut the door on us.

I turn to glance at her and can't help but snort a little. She must be at least a foot shorter than me. "Well, aren't you a little thing?" I say before narrowing my eyes at her. I realize I've probably just insulted her, but I see no attempt at her fighting back. My instincts were right: this girl is going to die.

Knowing there's nothing I can do about it, I turn away from her and stare straight ahead. I try to keep my mind clear of thoughts, but it's no good. I'm thinking of Hodder, and how I need to try my hardest to win this. I need to make it back for him. But doing that means I may have to kill this girl standing next to me with my bare hands. I know I'm capable of doing it, which worries me.

They open the door and gesture for us to follow. We're heading for the train station, and I almost stop to turn around. What happened to the goodbyes we're supposed to get? I have to stop myself from turning to find my family. I have to look strong. So instead, I make my way onto the train without glancing back. I'm aware that Cascaida has stopped, but I don't turn to see why. She's right behind me a few seconds later, and I can hear her sniffling. I make my way across the plush carpet and sit down on an even softer chair. I stare straight ahead and take a deep breath. Back to the Capitol I go.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yes, I know these chapters are a little slow, but I want you to know a little about each tribute before the action happens. So read and review! Let me know how I'm doing!**

**Chapter 3**

**Hester Brose: District 2 Female Tribute**

The whistle blows, signaling that the work day is finally over. I sigh as I wipe the sweat off of my forehead. I glance at the clock and realize they're actually letting us out early. I wonder why, but I know they won't actually give me a reason if I ask. I shuffle with the rest of the crowd out of the doors and into town. Most of the people in my department at the factory live in my neighborhood, which is nearby. I hear someone run up to my side and then slow their pace to mine. I look over to see my friend and neighbor, Acadia, grinning at me.

"I saw you talking to Luka today." She wiggles her eyebrows at me and I shake my head at her.

"If by talking to him you mean being yelled at by him, then you're right." I mutter, grinning at her.

"At least he spoke to you!" Her eyes widen and I can't help but laugh. For the last few months, Luka has been our supervisor. His family was kind of a big deal before the war, and now they're still pretty dominant in the community.

And even though I'll have to admit that he is nice to look at, he's been a real pain in my ass since day one. It's like he has no soul. He expects everyone to push themselves to the extreme every single day, even when it isn't necessary. And mistakes are _not_ made. Which is why I got yelled at today.

I had to pause for a moment to wipe the sweat off my brows before it ran into my eyes, and I ended up with more guns in front of me than I knew what to do with. I struggled to keep up, and dropped one of them in the process.

How he heard the drop, I'll never know. That factory is so loud; I can hardly hear myself think most of the time. But he noticed, and marched right over to my spot to tap me on the shoulder and pull me out of the line. He yelled at me for a good ten minutes or so, and I'm not even sure what he yelled about. I just nodded and apologized and got right back to work.

"So I'll see you tomorrow morning, right? We're still on for that game of kickball with the rest of the neighborhood, aren't we? I don't want to lose again like we did last time you bailed on me!"

I grin at her. She likes to over exaggerate about my kickball talents. "Of course I'll be there! I promised Coda I'd take him." And with that, we part ways and reach our own doorsteps.

As I turn the knob, I can hear Coda taking excitedly. Mom must be awake, I think. And she is. Her thin frame is resting on the couch, and my heart breaks as I see that her sunken in eyes haven't gotten any better since she was brought home.

Being part of the rebellion, my parents were tortured when the Capitol finally got control over District 13. We had been living there for a good few years. Mom had even given birth to my little brother while in that bunker. But when the war ended, our parents were taken from us.

Coda and I had to fend for ourselves. I was only eleven when we were taken back to District 2, Coda was only four. We weren't allowed to live on our own, so Acadia's parents took us in. They were our neighbors in District 13, and being rebels had won them a home in the worst possible area of town. Because they weren't active rebels, Acadia's parents weren't punished like mine were. We lived with Acadia, her parents, and her younger sister and brother for about a year and a half before the Capitol returned our mother.

The sight of her should have been warming, but all I wanted to do was vomit. She was bruised from head to toe, covered in scars and fresh wounds, and thinner than I thought humanly possible. And her eyes, they were the worst. The almost clear blue that used to match mine was gone. They were now cloudy and grey, and always seemed to be red.

I watch from the doorway as Coda tells our mother about his day. There is so much animation in his face, and I am thankful that our rough life hasn't affected the joy in him. His hair is getting long, I note as I watch it fall across his eyes. Mom just nods with a small smile on her face. They both glance up at me, as if just realizing my presence.

"Hester! How was work?" Coda asks, jumping up to come hug me.

"It was work." I reply, hugging him back. "How about you let me go change and then you can tell me all about your day at school?" I suggest and he nods, letting go of me and taking his spot near our mother once again.

I make my way into the room that I share with both my mother and Coda, and look at myself in the mirror. I study my hair, noting that my bright blonde hair is caked in the soot from the factory, making it seem a sort of grey color. Metal shavings poke out of my pony tail, and I decide against trying to pick them out. For now, I want to spend time with my brother.

As I pull a clean shirt over my head, I hear Coda calling my name. Worried, I make my way back to the living room quickly. Coda is pointing at the television and I follow his finger. It has turned on, and a man with a light teal color painted all over him: his hair, makeup, and clothes were all that same shade.

I remember watching him on television when I was younger. My father used to laugh along with him during the shows he hosted. My mother would always shake her head at him, and say "Mikal, he's from the Capitol. It's all just an act." But my father would wave her off. Even though he hated the Capitol more than she did, he had always enjoyed listening to this man, Caesar Flickerman.

So I smile a little as I sit down to see what this show is about. But my smile fades immediately as our president is shown sitting next to him. I can feel my mother go stiff next to me, and I hold out my hand for her to grab. Her grip is almost unbearable, but I don't flinch. I know seeing this man brings back memories of her torture and the death of my father.

Coda is hanging on every word being spoken, but I'm not paying attention. My eyes are narrowed at the horrible man staring back at me from the screen. His wicked grin makes my mother shake, and all I want to do is hurt him.

"Come on, mom. Let's get you to bed." I say as I pull her up off the couch. She comes willingly.

"Wait! You'll miss the new rules!" Coda yells from his spot and I turn to look at him questioningly.

"What new rules?" I ask, looking from him to the television.

"Haven't you been listening? They have new rules for the games." Coda sighs, exasperated. I stop dead in my tracks.

"The games?" I mutter, now trying to focus on the conversation going on between the president and Caesar.

"…and of course, the muttations will be quite entertaining." President Blackburn sneers as Caesar claps his hands.

"Oh of course they will be! Well, I'm sure we're all looking forward to what you have in store for us in the next few weeks!" And with that, the show ends. I've missed everything, but it's clear that the games are beginning once more. My blood runs cold and I can no longer support my mother. Coda must see it in my eyes, because he rushes over to take her to our room.

I step outside our now stuffy home and into the fresh air of the night. I spot a Peacekeeper marching down the street and I dip into the shadows of my home. I know he won't be able to see me, so I lean against the wall and slide down, resting my head on my knees.

Why would the Capitol start up something that almost caused their ruin once already? Maybe their new rules have made it impossible to start a rebellion. I wish I would have listened more closely.

But I did catch something at the end, something about muttations. I shiver. I remember watching the muttations during the last games, the 75th Hunger Games. I remember watching those muttations that looked like monkeys rip apart a person, those jabberjays that sounded like loved ones of those in the arena. I remember watching the year before, when the muttations looked like large dogs, except they had the haunting eyes of those tributes who had fallen earlier in the game.

The fact that the gamemakers had been able to cross that line so easily had made my parents angrier than anything else. I think it's what sent them over the edge and got them so involved in the rebellion.

I think of the nightmares that I had after having to watch all the horrible things that went on during those games. My parents tried to find a way around me watching it, but all of those mandatory viewings in the square made it difficult.

When the Peacekeeper patrolling my street is far enough away, I slip back into my now dark house. I sigh, knowing I left Coda to pick up the pieces while I went outside to breathe. I'll apologize to him tomorrow, but for now I better let him sleep. I know he's safe, but I'm not. As slim as the odds are, I could be reaped tomorrow. I toss and turn all night, hoping that I'm worrying over nothing.

When the light comes through our window, I groan. Nightmare after nightmare made sleep almost impossible. I see Coda stirring, and glance over at my mom's bed, hoping she'll wake up on her own. But of course, she's out cold. Coda gets himself ready as I try to shake our mother awake. It takes me a lot longer than I'd like, but I finally manage to get her up and put her nicest dress on her.

She groans as she sees what I've put her in. "Hester, no. I am not wearing this."

She tries to take it off but I stop her. "You're keeping it on." I look at her sternly and she narrows her eyes at me.

"We can't just support the Capitol. After all they've done to us, I would think you would feel the same." She snaps at me and I stare her down.

"That thinking is what got Dad killed. It's what got you tortured. If you keep thinking like that, you're going to put Coda and me in danger." She sighs and looks down in defeat. But I pull her chin up. "I'm serious. You need to stay in line. Especially if anything happens to me. Coda needs a mother, not a rebel."

She just nods and stands up to exit the room. I change into my own outfit, a silky blue dress that had been found in the wreckage of our district when the war ended. It was in really good shape, but because it had been abandoned, no one else wanted it. I had snatched it up, along with a few other things for Coda when we first arrived back home.

As I step out of my room, Coda gasps. "You look pretty!" But then he glances up and makes a face. "Well, your dress looks pretty." He laughs as I bring my hands up to the mess on top of my head. My mother smiles a little and gestures for me to sit down at the table. I oblige and she rushes back to our room to retrieve a few things. When she comes back, she begins running a brush through my hair. There are so many knots, I almost think she'll break the brush before she straightens out my hair.

Within minutes, she has tamed my hair. My long blonde locks are now resting down my back. I smile up at her, and she smiles back. Then we quickly eat our breakfast of stale rolls and cold soup and make our way towards the town square. We're a little early, so when the Peacekeepers point me in the right direction, I end up being right next to the stage. There are only a few other girls mingling around. Some of them look worried, but a few of them have bored looks on their faces. I notice their clothes are more expensive than ours and I shake my head. They must not realize that everyone has just as much of a chance at getting their name pulled. Acadia spots me and runs over to me, her younger sister Nakya in tow.

"So, this is unexpected, right?" She looks nervously at me and nod.

"It is. But it just means we'll have to postpone our kickball game for a few hours." I try to look confident, and I get a smile out of Nakya.

"As long as everything goes well." Acadia mutters and I elbow her. She glances at her sister and then looks up at me apologetically. "I mean, of course." Her cover up came a little too late, though, because Nakya scoots even closer to her sister and looks down at her feet. As people start crowding in, we are pushed closer and closer towards the stage. The Peacekeepers watch us to make sure we stay in the boundaries, and we do.

I can see a woman in what looks like ten inch heels walking behind the stage. Her black hair is piled high on top of her head and other than that, she almost looks normal from here. That is, until she turns towards us and I see her large, golden eye lashes that match the gold lipstick and her golden dress. I see her nails match the rest of her. She glitters in the rising sunlight and I want to look away.

There is chatter all around me, and I look around, noticing that the square has been packed full. I glance around and spot a few of my coworkers and friends. I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I think of one of their names being called. None of us deserves this.

The Capitol woman steps onto the stage and everyone quiets. As she makes her way to the microphone, the clicking of her heels echoes between the buildings.

She introduces herself as Bingham Theiroit, the new District 2 escort. She is well poised, although a lot of hateful eyes stare back at her. Although hatred against the Capitol is punishable by death, I can see that most of the people here can't help but dislike the fact that they're sending children in to fight to the death once again.

Bingham seems to go on forever, but once she starts heading for the bowl of floating names, I pay attention. I watch as she plucks a piece of paper out of the ball and makes her way back towards the microphone. I wonder who's name is on the slip of paper, hoping it will be a name I don't recognize.

"Hester Brose"

_Shit_. That's my name. I turn to look at Acadia, who is giving me a horrified look. Nakya is crying and grabs onto my arm. I hug them both and walk quickly to the stage before I begin to cry as well. I shake hands with my escort and notice that there are small golden lines encircling her hands and going up her arms. I step back and watch as she makes her way to the ball containing the boys' names. But before she can reach in, someone shouts out.

"I volunteer!" Everyone looks around and I do the same until I spot a boy making his way towards the stage. As I recognize him, I have to hold back a groan.

_There goes any chance I had of winning_, I think as I watch Luka make his way onto the stage. He shakes hands with the escort and then steps back so that he is standing right next to me.

"Hester." He nods my way and then looks straight forward. Our escort gushes about him for a few minutes before we are rushed off the stage and right onto a train without so much as a goodbye from our loved ones. I just hope my mother takes what I told her earlier this morning seriously.

I take a deep breath and make my way onto the train, followed closely by Luka. We're told to make ourselves at home, although the ride will not be too long. Our train is small, with only a dining cart, an office for our escort, and a room with a few chairs and a fireplace. I take a seat closest to the fireplace and Luke takes the chair next to me. I sigh and close my eyes, pulling my legs up under me for comfort.

I can hear Luka chuckle, so I open an eye to study him. He's watching me, so I open both eyes and narrow them at him. "What?" I ask grumpily. I no longer have to be nice to him, since it isn't likely that I'll be working under him again.

My snap makes him grin. "You look really relaxed for someone who just got sentenced to death." I eye him warily.

"You look pretty calm too." I shoot back at him, although I know full well what he means. But I will not let him see that I know I have no chance at winning with him in the arena.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So it doesn't look like this story is too popular, I've only gotten a few subscriptions/reviews. But I am determined to keep going! I figure if I at least finish this, I can say I did it regardless of whether people liked it or not. So here it goes!**

**Chapter 4**

**Luka Tanisen: District 2 Male Tribute**

As I watch from my office, I shake my head. This job is such a waste of my time, but of course, my sister thought it would be good for me to do something other than work out. But I'm starting to regret ever taking this job for her. I have done nothing but stress and get angry at how stupid people are. And of course, when my people screw up, I get yelled at from the guy above me.

So I try to keep my people in line. But they are so hardheaded, and ten minutes after I yell at them, they're doing the same thing again! As I sit and glare at the ridiculously dense people under me, I notice a girl who must be close to my age letting the parts pile up while she wastes her time doing who knows what.

I'm out of my office before I even see her drop something, but I knew it was inevitable. When she drops it, I see her wince before bending over to pick it up. I hold back for a second, enjoying the view. I chuckle to myself, knowing I could have her if I really wanted to.

I tap her on the shoulder and gesture for her to follow me away from the loud line, pulling someone else in to take her place while I yell at her. I almost change my name when her bright blue eyes look at me. But I shake my head. I am not weak.

I watch as she squirms under my gaze. She's tall for a girl, although she's still a head shorter than me. "Is there a reason why you let the line build up and then carelessly dropped a product?" I try to sound angry, although I honestly don't even care about this job enough to care if these people screw up anymore.

She just shakes her head at me, and focuses her eyes to stare back at me. I admire her courage. Most people look away from me when I yell at them. "I didn't think so. Do you like this job, Ms.—" I have to look down at her nametag, "—Brose? Because if you screw up again, I can take this all away from you. There are plenty of people in this district who would love this job. And we can't have incompetent people putting together the weapons for the Capitol now, can we?"

She just nods her head, still making eye contact with me. I notice that her hair is covered in metal shavings and soot from working here. It takes a lot of effort to stop myself from reaching over to pull a few of the flakes out of her hair. Even with the smudges on her face and in her hair, I can see that she is pretty, and I wonder why someone like her is working in this factory. I'm sure she could get a job out in town in one of the shops. A cleaner job, with better hours and surely better health benefits. I shake my head and mentally remind myself to stop checking her out. I'm supposed to be yelling at her.

I can't even be as angry with her as I would like because she's showing more courage than anyone else in here. I almost want to slap her on the back and give her a raise, but I know that wouldn't go well with my boss. It's actually quite funny to me. This girl reminds me so much of my older sister, I almost want to laugh aloud. No one else looks me in the eyes around here.

The reputation my brother left me to follow caused people to give me the utmost respect. People fear me, thanks to him. And that's the way I like it. I've never had an issue getting what I need done because no one will stand up to me. But this girl is standing tall in front of me, making eye contact with me, and just nodding like she really doesn't care what I have to say to her. It almost angers me.

"Just get back to work. And know that I _will_ be watching you. So don't screw up again." And with that, I turn back towards my office. I know I should have been harsher with her, but I just couldn't. Of course, I'm angry with myself now for going soft on her. But she reminds me so much of Dayvia, I was almost afraid she would yell back.

I read the memo on my desk telling me to let the workers out early for a special mandatory viewing tonight. I'm actually quite curious to see what it's about. But then again, it's going to cut into my work out routine, and I would really rather skip it. I guess one night without my usual routine won't be too bad. Maybe the program will be short and I'll be able to squeeze in a quick run before curfew.

I blow the whistle and watch as the workers file out like a herd of cattle. All of them are covered in soot and metal shavings and wearing the same uniform. I probably couldn't pick out a single one of them. Not that I could even if they had their name plastered on their clothes. The only time I ever interact with one of them is to yell at them.

As soon as the factory empties, I lock up and head home. When I walk in the door, I can hear my mother and father in the kitchen. I run upstairs to change before joining them for dinner and smack right into my sister.

"Watch where you're going!" She hollers as I scoot past her and into my room. I can hear her chuckling to herself as she makes her way down the stairs. I glance in the mirror as I get changed, and notice the difference between my clean blonde hair and Brose's dirty, almost grey stained, blonde hair. At least Dayvia got me a high position in the factory. If I had to come home looking that dirty every day, I'm sure I would have quit long ago.

I admire my muscles, which I am proud to say, have surpassed my older brothers tone and bulk when he was my age. I grit my teeth, remembering him and wishing he was here. As disliked as he was around the district for his lack of any sort of emotion, he was a good brother. I was only seven when he died, and I had looked up to him. He was my idol. He aced all of his training. He was the best in the whole district; probably the whole country as well. And he made it really far in the games. He was the last Career standing, but that wasn't enough to beat the 'Star-crossed lovers' of District 2. I shake my head in disgust.

Anyone could see it was all fake. They did it for the publicity. You could tell that the girl was not enjoying it. But of course, the whole country believed them. The whole country fell for their story and their cause and a war broke out because of them. Not that the war affected me much. Because my brother, Cato, was such a good tribute, my parents were shipped to the Capitol for our protection. There, I got to train all day, every day. They asked me to join their military, but I declined. After all, I do still kind of blame them for my brother's death. I know he had volunteered and all, and he _should_ have won. But the Capitol was so into the love story that they basically handed him over for death in the end.

I make it downstairs just in time for my mother to start serving our plates. Of course, mine is piled high with about three times as much food as any of the other plates. After all, I work out before and after work and need the extra calories to bulk up.

"I don't understand why you work out so much. It isn't like you have any games to train for." Dayvia mutters as she shoves her mouth full of the delicious food.

"Leave him alone, dear. It's good for him." My mother remarks as she takes her seat to join us.

"I'm just saying. He can actually have a life. He doesn't have to spend all his time training like Cato did." My mother just shrugs and goes back to eating her food. No one flinches at my dead brother's name, and it angers me. None of them seem to even care that he died. My father said it was honorable and that we shouldn't mourn for him. But I did. And Dayvia did, too. I remember watching my parents and wondering why they weren't upset like we were. And still now, I don't like talking about my older brother. After all, he was my hero and I had to watch him get eaten alive by those muttations for hours.

My father senses the tension coming from me and changes the subject. "So, what do you think the Capitol wants to show us tonight?" He raises his eyebrows at us and we all shrug.

"Maybe they're going to send in more troops. After all, they just built that huge bunker down past the factories." Dayvia suggests and we all nod.

"But that doesn't seem important enough for a mandatory viewing." I point out. But we don't have any more time for suggestions, for the television turns itself on. We take our plates to the sink and quickly take seats in the living room. Caesar Flickerman is on and now my interest is sparked. I remember meeting him in the Capitol during the war. He hadn't been on television since the last games aired, right before the war broke out.

But there he is, grinning widely with his perfectly white teeth. He introduces President Blackburn, whom I also got the pleasure of meeting in the Capitol. I have respect for the man, who was much like my brother with his cold demeanor. But he was a real jackass about me not joining the military. So I narrow my eyes when the camera pans over to him.

He announces something that gets my blood pumping. In honor of the war being over and the country going back to order, they are starting the games again. I begin to grow excited, knowing I can finally take my brothers footsteps further and bring honor to his name again. After losing to a puny girl and an injured boy from District 12, our family lost a lot of respect. And I finally have the chance to gain it back.

I'm so excited by this news that I block out most of everything else. All I hear snippets about the new muttations they are introducing, which makes me shudder. If there had been no muttations in Cato's games, he would have come out the victor. I hear something else about other dangers, but I tune them out. I know I could take anything they throw at me. The show ends before I know it and I rush upstairs to bed. I know it will be hard for me to sleep, but sleep is what I need. As I lay in bed, I almost decide to go for a quick run, but then shake it off until tomorrow.

I toss and turn, and nightmares from when I was a child keep me awake. Twice, I see my brother being ripped apart by those muttations. His agonizing screams and moans echo throughout my dream as I'm stuck watching it all happen. Both times, I wake up sweating and shaking. As tough goes, I'm the toughest. But when it comes to watching my idol being tortured and eaten alive, _that_ is my kryptonite.

I have another nightmare, one that I know cannot happen but still wakes me up. It's the Reaping, but they've reaped Dayvia. And there's nothing I can do about it. I try to volunteer, but they won't allow it. Although she is very strong, Dayvia never did well in her training when she was younger. She can stand up to me without batting an eye, but she is against violence in general. She hated watching Cato in the games. She would close her eyes when he would snap someone's neck and I remember her having to leave the room when he chased after that lover boy after they got attacked by the tracker jackers. So in my dream, I'm stuck in my living room, watching my sister on the television. Being from District 2, she is a Career. But as a cruel joke, the game makers release the same muttations from my brother's game and I have to watch as my sister suffers the same fate.

Before the sun comes up, I rise. I have a few hours before the reaping, which is perfect for a nice run. Jogging through the district right before sunrise is my favorite. It's so quiet and dark and there isn't another soul in sight. I do my usual five miles before heading home. As I step into my house, I see the rest of my family has woken up. My mother and father are dressed in their nicest clothes and I'm sure my sister is going to be hogging the bathroom all morning to make sure her hair looks perfect.

I bang on the bathroom door and she opens it, looking slightly annoyed. "What?"

"I need to shower." I say as I push past her and usher her out. She groans and complains, but in the end, I have the bathroom to myself. I peel off my sweaty clothes and hop in, letting the cold water cool me down. I take longer than usual on purpose, just to piss off Dayvia.

By the time I get out and open the bathroom door, she's fuming. She pushes past me without a word and shuts the door before I've even taken a step. I just laugh and shake my head. She is definitely not a morning person.

When I go into my room, I see that my mother has set out a nice pair of slacks and a fancy button up shirt. As I put it on, I notice that the sleeves are quite tight. I roll them up to right below my elbow and flex, trying to stretch the fabric. But it doesn't give much. I sigh, knowing I am going to be really uncomfortable for the next few hours.

As I take one more look in the mirror to make sure I've gotten my clothes straightened out enough, I head downstairs to eat a quick breakfast. My mother and father have already left, and I look at the clock and realize I should leave too. I call for Dayvia, who yells something back to me. I shove food in my mouth quickly and carefully, trying not to make a mess of my clothes. Dayvia finally comes downstairs and I hand her an apple as I drag her out of the door.

"You aren't going to do something stupid like volunteer for this thing, are you?" She asks suspiciously, biting into her apple.

"Of course I am." I say, grinning back at her. She frowns at me and stops.

"No. Luka, you can't. Didn't you hear what they said last night? They've made _changes_." She emphasizes the 'changes', as if it's supposed to scare me. But I shrug it off and grab her hand, dragging her towards the square. "I'm serious! You have nothing to prove! You don't have to do this." She's pleading now, and I can hear the emotion in her voice. Right as we hit the crowd, I turn to her.

"I promise I will come back. I just need to restore the respect for Cato. He should have won. I need to win this for him." And she says nothing else, knowing I won't back down. Peacekeepers stop us, directing me to the large group of boys waiting and directing her to the rest of the crowd, where I can spot my mother and father.

As I stand in the crowd, I watch a Capitol woman step up to the microphone. She introduces herself as Bingham Theiroit and makes her way towards the first bowl, which holds all of the names of the girls in the district.

"Hester Brose." She calls and I watch as the girl I had yelled at, well really just barely scolded, fills the screens all around us. She looks confused, and I can see two girls next to her begin to cry as they hug her. She cries a little too as she makes her way up to the stage, and I frown. I thought she was stronger than that. I guess I must have misjudged her. But still, I wish that _anyone_ but her had been called. There's just something about her that lowers my guard, and I can't have a distraction like that in the arena with me.

I turn my focus to the escort, who is now making her way to the bowl full of boys' names.

"I volunteer!" I shout out, loud enough for the whole district to hear. She pauses with her hand hovering over the bowl, scanning the crowd. The cameras begin to focus on me as I walk forward. The crowd parts for me and I walk confidently up to the stage.

"A volunteer! And what is your name?" She inquires and I smile at her.

"Luka. Luka Tanisen." Gasps spill out from the crowd as they all realize who I am and who my brother was.

I step back so that I am standing next to Hester. The escort smiles and takes over. "Luka. You must be the brother of one of our beloved fallen tributes. And I see the resemblance. Well, with him in the arena, I don't think I'll be coming back here empty handed!" I turn to Hester, whom she has just insulted and I see that she is staring at me blankly. She must not have heard the escort.

"Hester." I nod at her and then look away before she can say anything. I don't want her to be here, standing next to me. I want her to still be safely in the crowd, like my sister. It's going to be hard enough trying to win this thing, but the thought of possibly having to kill her kind of puts a damper on my mood.

My thoughts are interrupted as they usher us towards the train station. I hate that I don't get to say goodbye to my family, but then I remember how awkward Cato's goodbyes were and I sigh with relief. Bullet dodged. I follow close behind Hester as we step onto the train. I look around and see that this train is really small. I know from looking at the outside of it that my brother got a much bigger train. I spot a few chairs in the middle of the room and plop down in the one next to the one Hester has just sat in.

I turn to look at her, and she has already curled herself up onto one of the chairs and has her eyes closed. I can't help but chuckle at how relaxed she looks now, thinking of how I just watched her cry as she hugged those two girls.

She catches me looking at her, but I don't care. She opens both eyes and then narrows them at me. "What?" She spits and I'm almost taken aback at how forceful her voice sounds.

But then I just grin at her, thankful that I didn't misjudge her after all. She does have spunk. "You look really relaxed for someone who just got sentenced to death." I grin cockily at her. She just stares back at me for a moment before responding.

"You look pretty calm too." She shoots back and it makes me grin even wider. Although I have just basically told her that I think she's going to die in the arena, I have faith in her. If anyone other than me wins this, it will be her. I stand up from my chair and make my way over to the buffet. They've set out all sorts of different kinds of food for us, and I take samples of each. Might as well eat while there's food in front of me.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! Things have been crazy! And I have started Part 2 of my first fanfiction. But I haven't forgotten about this one! It's just been on the backburner until I have more time for it! Read and enjoy! **

**Chapter 5**

**Paralee Markin: District 3 Female Tribute**

"Parry! Wake up!" I roll over, burying myself in my blankets. But Fiora, my older sister, rips them out from around me. I turn to give her a sleepy glare, but she's already giving me one. "Get dressed. We can't be late for this. Mom and Dad will get in trouble." I notice that she's already dressed in the only dress she owns.

She makes her way to Zillah's bed, and I notice she's a lot nicer to her about waking up. I glare at my older sister for being harsh to me, but she doesn't seem to notice. I try to roll back over and fall asleep, but I realize I'm cold without my blankets. I glance across the room to where she's thrown them. I debate on whether it's worth it to go grab them or to just get ready. After all, I don't really want to get my parents in trouble for being late. But it's so _early_.

We don't even have to be at school this early! I hear movement throughout the house and finally decide to drag myself out of bed. I notice that Fiora laid out my best dress. But as payback for her being a jerk to me only moments ago, I throw the dress on the floor and dig through the closet for an older, worn dress. She just glares at me as she sees what dress I put on. There are stains and rips in it, but it's my favorite dress and it's what I want to wear for this special occasion.

Fiora rolls her eyes at me before leaving the room. Zillah gives me a weird look as she sees what dress I put on, but doesn't say anything about it. Instead, she looks at me with worried eyes.

"Parry, why do we have to do this?" She's twisting the bow in the front of her dress in her fingers and I grab her hands before she undoes it completely.

"I'm not sure. But it will be over soon." I give her the best advice I can. I'm not even sure what this really is. I was only three when the Capitol last had the Hunger Games, and I don't remember a single thing about them. All I know is that watching the announcement last night made my parents cry. And Fiora became really moody. It looks like she hasn't snapped out of her bad mood yet. We can only hope that once this is over, she'll go back to being nice to me.

There's a knock on our door and we both turn to see who it is. Ridge pops his head in and gives us a smile. "Are you two almost ready? Fiora is about to have a fit. Mom doesn't want to start eating breakfast until everyone's at the table."

Zillah and I nod and follow our older brother into the kitchen. Fiora gives me a steaming look before turning to her plate. Mom and Dad look awful, their eyes blood shot and puffy.

As we sit down, Zillah speaks up, obviously observing the same things I did. "What's so bad about this Reaping thing?" She asks through a mouth full of pancakes. This causes our mom to burst into tears, and Fiora is now glaring at Zillah. Thankfully, Dad steps in before Fiora says something mean.

"Girls, I don't want to go into all of the details, but you should know a little about what we're going to see today." He takes a deep breath before beginning, and for some reason, chills run down my spine. "Back before the war, the Capitol put on yearly Hunger Games. These games were made up of 24 tributes, two from each district. These kids were between the ages of 12 and 18 and they were placed in an arena and forced to kill each other. There could only be one tribute." Zillah looks to each of us kids, fear in her eyes as she realizes that all of us are eligible. My father is about to continue, but my mother speaks before he has a chance.

"Enough." My mother mutters, the tears still welling up in her eyes. My father gives her a look but she shakes her head. "No, Dedrick. I don't want them to hear anything about it. Especially since you're describing it as if it's not even that bad. Don't you remember my sister? Isn't that reason enough not to take this lightly?" She glares at him and he nods, lowering his head.

I have never seen my mother this way. I search the faces of my siblings and realize they're just as in awe as I am. Ridge clears his throat, and it eases the tension a little. But no one else speaks for the rest of the meal. Instead, we eat quickly and clear the table.

Ridge helps my mother do the dishes quickly, and we're out the door without a word. Zillah grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly, and I squeeze back. She looks worried, and I wish there was something I could do to put her at ease. But frankly, I'm not even sure what's going on. Of course, my father explained it. But I remember watching the program last night. They changed some of the rules. And I'm assuming it wasn't for the better.

I look from Fiora to Ridge, realizing that the three of us could be reaped today. I shudder, not wanting to even think about what could happen to one of us if that happened. I glance up at my mother, who has put herself back together quite well. If anything happened to us, I'm not sure how she would handle it. I then glance up at my dad, knowing he would hold this family together as best as he could.

When we make it to the town square, I gasp in amazement. There are huge screens everywhere. And most of the town has already showed up. We are greeted by Peacekeepers who send us in the directions we're supposed to be going to. Zillah is forced to let go of my hand, but not before giving me a tight hug.

"Don't worry, Zil. We'll all be okay." I say, more confidently than I actually feel. She gives me a look, as if she doesn't believe me, but lets go of me and latches herself onto Dad. He gives us all a sad smile before following our mother into the crowd.

Fiora and I are headed towards the same area, so I follow closely behind her. She stops abruptly and I step on her heel. She turns around and glares at me. "Watch where you're going, would you?"

My eyes narrow at her. "What is your problem?" I huff under my breath, but she still hears me. She gives me one heated stare before walking deeper into the crowd, almost losing me. As mean as she's being, I don't want to lose her in this crowd. So I end up right next to her when someone starts speaking on the microphone.

I can't see who it is from here. I'm so short compared to all of the girls around me, and I can hardly see the screens at all. I can make out bright yellow hair moving around and I assume it belongs to the person talking. She introduces herself as Imbruglia Radius. From her accent, I can tell that she's from the Capitol. She says she is the escort for our district, whatever that means. She tries to crack a joke, but no one laughs. So she goes right to the name picking. Girls go first. I'm listening intently as she calls the first name.

"Paralee Markin"

I stiffen up. Fiora looks at me in horror and slowly backs away from me. I try to reach out for her, but she keeps stepping out of my grasp. The crowd begins pushing me towards the stage, but I just stare at my sister. Tears are streaming down my face as I make it on stage.

"Paralee? It's nice to meet you. Are you ready for the Games?" I hardly hear Imbruglia speaking to me, so I just nod a quick no. She looks shocked, but says no more, just pushing me from the microphone and out of her way. She calls the boy name, but I don't even hear it.

I just keep staring at Fiora, who won't make eye contact with me. I'm so hurt by her reaction that I can't even look away. But eventually I do, when I hear Ridge off in the distance, yelling something. I look for him and when I find him, I smile a little. He's waving at me and mouthing something to me. I don't know what it is, but just seeing someone actually care that I'm up here is enough for me. His face is tear stained, and I can see tears are still welling up in his eyes. I try to find my parents and Zillah in the rest of the crowd, but I can't see that far into the distance.

I turn just in time to watch a blonde boy with glasses make his way onto the stage. He looks to be about twice my size, but still seems really scrawny for a boy. Our escort calls him Trevik, and he gives me a weak smile as he takes his place next to me. I can see him shaking from where I stand, and I wonder how he's managed not to cry yet. His eyes shift nervously across the crowd, and fear spreads across his face.

As I study him, our escort says her goodbyes to the crowd and begins pushing us towards the train station. I begin to panic. "Wait! I want to say goodbye to my family! This isn't fair! I'm not going anywhere until I see my family!" I scream. Everyone turns and stares at me and I shrink back. Tears are flowing down my cheeks, but no one seems to care other than Trevik.

He puts his skinny arm around me and whispers, "It's okay. You'll see them again soon. But try not to make outbursts like that again. The Capitol people get really antsy when you don't comply silently." I just look up at him and nod. We step onto the train and my jaw drops.

There is plush wall to wall carpet. And sitting on top of the beautiful carpet are beautiful couches, made of some material I have never seen before in my life. There is also a huge table full of all sorts of food that I have also never seen before. But the delicious smells make their way into my nose and my mouth instantly waters, regardless of the delicious breakfast I just had.

I look from the buffet to Trevik and he nods, giving me permission to run over to the table and fill my plate full of all sorts of delicious looking things.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" I ask him, noticing that he's just sitting on one of the oversized couches.

"I'm not really hungry." He shrugs. Oh well, I think, your loss! I pile up more food than I could possibly eat in a lifetime and sit down on a chair across from Trevik. He glances at my plate and then back up at me. "Just don't eat it all too fast, alright? Capitol food is a bit richer than we're used to."

"How do you know so much about all this?" I question through a mouth full of some sort of sweet bread that I've slathered in some delicious red spread.

"I have a really good memory. I was six when the war broke out, but I remember a lot before it. Like about the games and the Capitol. Plus, my parents told me a lot about it all."

"Oh." I say, shoving more food into my mouth. "My mom kind of freaked out when we asked her about the games this morning." My eyes begin to fill with tears as I think of my family. I miss them already and it's only been a few minutes. I start crying, dropping my plate full of food to the floor. I have never been away from them, ever.

I pick my feet up and wrap my arms around my knees. I cry and cry and I feel Trevik place an awkward hand on my back. "I know this is hard. But you have to be strong, okay?" I look up at him and glare.

"How can I be strong if I don't even know what I have to be strong for?" I sob, and I'm not even sure he can understand me anymore.

"I'll make you a deal. If you can control your emotions, I will tell you everything I know about the games." He looks at me intently and I nod. I wipe my face off and try to slow my breathing. It takes a while, but I manage to calm myself down.

But before Trevik can begin telling me anything, a woman comes in and begins cleaning up my mess. I feel ashamed, and drop down on the floor next to her. "You don't have to do that! I made the mess, I can clean it." She just looks at me for a second before continuing. Trevik's hand is on my shoulder, and I look up at him, confused.

"She's an avox. It's her job to clean up after us. Let her do her job so she doesn't get in trouble." Now I'm really confused. What is an avox? I sigh, taking my seat back on the chair. I look at Trevik, expecting answers. He sighs. "This is going to be a long trip. Let me get something to drink before I begin." And as he gets up, I can't help but feel excited about this new information I'm about to learn.


End file.
